Betrayed
by raginrad77
Summary: NO LONGER A ONE SHOT DUE TO POPULAR DEMAND. Sly and Carmelita meet up for a moonlight rendezvous, yet something goes terribly wrong. Please R&R!
1. Betrayed

Betrayed

**HEY GUYS! So I've recently become very obsessed with this series and wanted to give a fanfic a try. I hope you enjoy the one-shot.**

…**.**

It didn't take long for the rain to subside, contradicting the "all night" prediction of the weatherman. As I walked through the fine mist, a ledge appeared out of the darkness of the night. No moon, stars blotted out by city lights. I sprinted forward and jumped, launching myself at the rooftop adjacent. I landed knees bent so I wouldn't have to roll.

The gray rooftop was home to a brown love seat covered in wet plastic. I padded over and tugged it off, the mist no threat to the cheap leather upholstery. I spread out the blue quilt tucked under my arm, placing it along the couch.

I sat and waited, twirling my cane in my hand, the lights of Paris twinkling in the distance. I checked the watch Bentley gave me as a present, which glowed a green 2:30. Where was she, I thought to myself. She's late.

I dozed on the couch for fifteen minutes, until I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Long time, ringtail." The silky accent weaved its way around me, coupled with the sound of heels. I turned my head behind me.

"Too long." I gave her my signature smirk. She just smiled and sat beside me, leaning on my shoulder.

"What have you been up to, Carmelita?" I inquired, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"Outside of trying to catch you?" I nodded, smiling. "A serial killer is on the loose. His M.O shifts slightly every time, whether its victim placement or the type of flower he leaves. He also kills sporadically, anywhere from once a week to once a month."

"Hmmm." I pondered. "I'll put the word out that I'm looking for him. Maybe he'll turn up and I can pass along some info."

"Thanks."

"Of course." I grabbed the wooden switch on the side of the couch and pulled upwards, causing my seat to lean back until I was facing the sky. Carmelita did the same looking at me and smiling. I returned the smile and grabbed her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers.

Sometimes we would just lay like that, looking into each other's eyes, exploring the vastness within them. Occasionally I would catch glimpses of pain, other times her eyes would sparkle with happiness.

I looked up again at the meager amount of stars we could see. She mimicked my action.

"What about you? Any interesting heists?"

"You would know wouldn't you?" I teased. She elbowed me in the ribs softly.

"Despite what you like to think, I don't have tabs on everything."

"You just enjoy stalking me." I teased again, turning towards her and smiling.

"Oh yes, Its my favorite past time." She replied, voiced heavily laced with sarcasm.

"Do you watch me in the shower?" Her eyes widened in response as I tried to hold back a chuckle.

"Pervert!" She said accusingly, poking me in the chest. "Remember I'm the one with the Shock Pistol." She threatened, this time smirking at me. I raised my hands up giving her my best "Scared Shitless" face. "Jerk."

"I love you too." I looked back towards the sky. Recounting the countless hours we spent up here, talking or just being near each other. Of course to Interpol she was still after me, but it was more than just luck that kept her Shock Pistol from ever hitting its mark. I leaned my head on her shoulder and breathed in deeply, just happy being next to her. I closed my eyes, thinking about how much I loved her.

That's why she was able to handcuff me. She rolled me over and grabbed both of my hands. I was so shocked I was paralyzed, only returning to my senses after the cuffs had locked and the pistol was dug into my back.

"Carm-"

"I'm so, so sorry." She whispered in my ear. Then she spoke loudly, "Don't move, or I'll shoot." She grabbed me roughly by my shoulder and tugged me upward, both of us standing next to the couch.

"Why?" I asked. I didn't get an answer.

"You wouldn't shoot." I said painfully into the silence.

"No, but I will." Said a gruff voice off to my left. I saw the outline of a heavily built man, carrying some bulky in his hands. No doubt a gun.

Carmelita pushed me towards the door near the edge of the roof, the other cop opening it and heading in first. The stairwell was lit by lazy yellow lights all the way down to ground level. Our steps echoed against my ears, which were overwhelmed by the roaring in my head. She had betrayed me. Two years of secretly meeting up whenever we could, of sharing our hopes and dreams, our fears and pasts.

"Does it mean nothing to you Carmelita? The endless nights, the whispered words, the declarations of love?" She remained silent.

I was pushed out of the building and towards a wall of cop cars. All of the cops had their guns raised and pointed at me. One of them had taken my cane. I barley noticed, the pain in my chest overshadowing everything else.

I got into a cop car willingly, my body numb and empty. I looked out the window at Carmelita, who had her back turned to me. Her shoulders trembled slightly as she spoke to some detective.

"Where your going," the cop driving said as he pulled away. "Your gang will never be able to get you out."

Good, I thought, feeling as though I were trapped in lead, my reason to live gone.

The patrol car sped off into the night, unseen to me was the small turtle perched on a rooftop not to far from where I was. He placed his binocucom back into its pouch and turned away from the scene, mind already drafting a plan.

…

**Well that was depressing. I hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think and how I can improve!**


	2. Hopeless

**ALOT Of people wanted me to continue this one-shot (so like, five), so consider this Part 2. I think it will end up being a story, but not super long. **

**PLEASE enjoy. I love CAPS!**

…

The Turtle smashed the last firewall like you would a stack of milk jugs at a carnival. Cracking his fingers, he searched through the database, hoping to find even the slightest record of Sly's arrest. So far his search had been fruitless. Wherever they were holding the information, as it had to be somewhere, it was hidden really well.

Extremely well, Bentley thought, sipping his fifth cup of coffee. His extensive setup, consisting of six monitors, enough hardware to build a small supercomputer, and a mouse with nine extra buttons on the side, were all running different processes.

Bentley had broken into every database on the map, even France's Secret Service, which seemed to have everything. Except what he was looking for.

He dropped his head on the keyboard, exhausted and upset.

But he was also angry. And furious, and peeved, and every other synonym he could think of. His logical mind tried to convince him that Carmelita must have had an ulterior motive, but he refused to focus on the motive. All he could think about was busting Sly out of there, now.

…

The tea suddenly seemed unappetizing, and with a trembling hand, she set it down. She ran a hand through her curls, and tried once again to focus on the new case file on her desk.

Richards, Daniel, she thought to herself. Simple American street thug turned international drug overlord. She glanced at the top right of the file and saw an angry mugshot staring her back in the face. But the more she focused on it, the more it morphed into a black and gray raccoon with a quirky little smirk.

She shook her head, and the photo dissolved into an ugly portrait of a canine. She set the file down, then proceeded to throw her tea across the room. It hit the khaki wall next to an uninteresting clock. It read 4:25.

Carmelita breathed in and sighed. In five minutes the interrogation would start, and she was dreading it.

When her boss had come in and congratulated her she acted happy and smiled, meanwhile her stomach had done flips and her heart sunk.

She gathered the broken pieces of herself and left her office, the red door shutting for what would be the last time.

…

I stared at the gray metal table, the sound of her voice piercing my ears and ringing deep in my stomach.

"Mr. Cooper," she began, mimicking every other interrogation ever done. "You have been charged with assault, grand larceny, theft, breaking and entering, and a wealth of other charges. It would be easier on you if you just cooperated." She lied. I knew that I would be going away forever, she was trying to pacify me, to get me to speak.

There wasn't a point. She was a witness to half of my crimes. But that's not why it didn't matter.

Nothing did. Not once did I consider breaking out of the handcuffs, a trick I picked up a long time ago.

I felt, empty. Not a void, because even a void is something. What I felt was nothing. But I wasn't numb either. Just nothing.

Which is why I didn't look up, nor respond. She sighed, and stood up, not saying another word.

"Why?" I whispered, so softly only her ears would pick it up. My lips never moved. I looked up into her chocolate eyes. They were guarded, but the wall she put up was weak. It shattered the second I looked at her.

I saw the glimmer of a tear form, before it was whisked away by a blink.

"It was my job." She mouthed, her back to the one-way glass. I just stared back at her, knowing there was more. There had to be, I loved her, and I knew she loved me.

"My life." She mouthed again. I put together the pieces of the puzzle and mused over the picture it formed.

But I didn't change, I still didn't feel. I had knew knowledge, sure, but I didn't feel any less empty.

"It is my job." She repeated, this time out loud. Then she left the room.

A couple of uniforms came in and put me back in my cell. I was alone. I turned around and faced the wall, turning into a silent mess of tears in the space of a second.

…**..**

**Sorry it's short, but it is the perfect place to end it. I'm thinking it will be about four chapters. **

**I really hope you guys enjoyed. PLEASE Read and Review. It makes me post all fast and stuff. **


	3. Allies

**School starts Monday. FML**

**YAY CHAPTER ^^**

…

In the end, the answer had been quite simple. The turtle found Sly's records in the Paris Police database. They had hidden it in plain sight, a place Bentley wouldn't have thought to look since it was so easy to find.

It had actually been Murray who had recommended it, while Bentley was searching through Swedish Intelligence files.

According to his file, the Raccoon had been moved from interrogation to La Sante prison. He had put up no struggle at all, and after some intense interrogation by Ms. Fox herself, had quietly been shipped off to the VIP area, surrounded by thugs and a wealth of security.

Bentley's hands flew across the keyboard, researching the prison itself.

It had a max capacity of 2,000, and was built like an 'X' with a dome in the middle. It was surrounded by a classic high wall, and the entire prison was surrounded by high-rise buildings. Due to a lack of staff and overcrowding, rape, murder, enslavement and suicide were common.

Overall, the situation worried Bentley. Breaking in to the prison would be simple enough, but what set him on edge was that Sly had not once tried to escape. He could escape handcuffs, knock out guards, and escape a moving car all in the blink of an eye. Yet there wasn't a blemish on his arrest record.

Bentley wheeled himself over to his workstation, and began drawing up plans for the rescue.

…**..**

The frigid air did little help Carmelita in her brooding state. Her mind screamed at her to turn around, go back to her desk, forget this whole affair.

Her legs didn't stop. Her boots clicked on the sidewalk, a metronome in the silence of the Paris night.

At the end of the first month of meetings , she had tagged him with a tracker, he being none the wiser. She was sitting at her desk, had the location of his safe house open on her computer. All she had to do was press a button, and the whole of the Paris police force would be upon them in a second.

Yet something had held her back. This feeling had grown inside of her, each hello causing it to build.

It got to the point where she would find herself daydreaming of an impossible life they may have had together.

Until someone caught wind of the affair. Whoever had found out remained anonymous, although she was determined to find them and….. And what? Hurt them? Kill them even? She shook her head free of the thought.

Her bosses had been informed. Since that was their only proof, they couldn't legally do anything else to find out the truth. But even detectives work outside of the law. They threatened to fire her if she did not lead them to him.

Being a part of the force had become her life. She had become so involved that escaping it was impossible.

For every murderer, crime lord, and common junkie she put behind bars, she was able to bury her past a little bit further inside of her.

Yet the pain was still there, coming in waves or hitting her at random times.

But with Sly, she found it evanescing. It had gotten to the point where she had hardly felt it at all.

Suddenly determined, she quickened her pace, nearing the house that would change her life forever.

…**..**

I finally felt, when his fist connected with his jaw.

It was a largely built chocolate lab whose fist was just finishing its arc. I flew backwards, my body spinning, the punch taking me unawares.

Then the world slowed. I felt myself falling forward, tucked my head, and rolled on my right shoulder. As I was coming out of the roll, I spun around, ending up on one knee facing my attacker. He stood a few feet away, in shock at how I had recovered.

I didn't hesitate. I jumped up and ran at him, reeling my arm back. His arm came up to block, a good move, but I wasn't aiming for his face.

My fist flew at his stomach, hitting a wall of muscle. I felt him arch down towards me, air knocked out of him. I may have a slender frame, but it was all muscle.

I took a step back and grabbed the back of his head, sending it crashing towards my knee. I felt more than heard his nose break, and he fell down. He quickly scrambled up, rubbing his face and glaring at me.

"You runt." He growled, trying to seem menacing. I simply stared back at him. He huffed, lip curling up over sharp teeth, then he charged.

It was a stupid move, and I decided to make the most of it. I ran at him, causing him to stumble a bit in surprise. I dropped to the ground and slid under him, coming up with enough time to kick him as hard as I could in the back. He fell to the ground, arms out to catch himself. The second his hands hit the ground I grabbed his leg and tugged as hard as I could. His hands slipped, and his face hit the tile, further shattering his destroyed nose.

I stood up, turned and walked away from him, hoping he would have the sense not to attack again. The few inmates who had seen the spectacle backed away, not wanting to be around the Lab when he was angry. I walked back to my cell, flopped on the bed, and felt the adrenaline slowly leave my body.

It was only a few seconds before I noticed the tiny slip of paper hidden under the bars of the bunk above mine.

…

**This chapter was mostly filler for what's coming up. Don't worry, I DEFINENTLY have a plan.**

**No not really. Suggestions anyone?**

**Thank you!**


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